New Year's Day Nap
Fiesta Bowl on low.
My son lying here on the couch
on the "Dad" pillow he made for me
in the Seventh Grade. Now a sophomore
at Georgia Southern, driving back later today,
he sleeps with his white top hat over his face.
I'm a dancin' fool.
Twenty years ago, half the form
he sleeps within came out of nowhere
with a million micro-lemmings who all died but one
piercer of membrane, specially picked to start a brainmaking,
egg-drop soup, that stirred two sun and moon centers
for a new-painted sky in the tiniest
ballroom imaginable.
Now he's rousing, six feet long,
turning on his side. Now he's gone.
Coleman Barks
from Gourd Seed
Blog Archive
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2011
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January
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- Grist: The Journal for Writers -- Issue #4 & AWP
- It's time to celebrate!
- The Monday Tape - AWP Edition
- Ah, Miami
- Some Readings Coming Soon
- Hello
- "Love Poem for Los Angeles"
- Will Work for Hammock
- Far & Near
- You've Got Mail!
- Great Interview...
- Close but no cigar
- In Miami!
- Why I Am Opposed to the War in Vietnam
- "But our Princess is in another castle!"
- Tucson Memorial Poem
- Whale Sound
- The Book Trailer!
- Snowpocalypse
- AWP? AWP!
- "I'll walk, I'll go with you."
- Make it official
- Odds & Ends
- Epiphany
- Gifts
- Kauai Diaries
- Lightly
- Tuesday on a Monday
- Recent Linebreak
- Resolve
- New Year's Day
- New Year's Day poem
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January
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